


My Love, Leave Yourself Behind

by JessicaEBoswell



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 21:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaEBoswell/pseuds/JessicaEBoswell
Summary: In the May of 1875, the treaty of St. Petersburg was signed by the mighty empires of Japan and Russia. After disputes between settlers on the uncertain borders, an agreement was made. Just a year later in 1876, fresh-faced and enthusiastic Prince Victor Nikiforov heads out to Japan to meet with the famous Emperor Meiji as a show of good will and friendship, but what he doesn’t anticipate is to have his heart encapsulated by one of the emperor’s most valued advisors, Yuri Katsuki.In the present day, Yuri has struggled to face his anxieties and perform well enough over the years in skating competitions, but just as he is about to give up and resign himself to a life aiding his family in running the onsen, an unexpected visitor arrives in the shape of Victor Nikiforov, the esteemed champion of figure skating, and a man looking to get away from the eyes of the media and find himself amongst the blossom trees and tranquillity of Hasetsu. As the pair bond over an adoration of the intricate sport and a shared need for something more in life, they discover that their meeting may not have been as coincidental as they first thought.





	1. My Love, Leave Yourself Behind

**Chapter 1: My Love, Leave Yourself Behind**

_-_

_1876_

The docks were bustling with merchants and adventurers who were eager to tell their tales to anybody willing to listen. Most of it was nonsense, imagined fantasy that was as impossible as it was improbable, but the townsfolk adored them, especially the children who gathered in rabbles to listen to the far-fetched fables.

Prince Victor, cousin of the royal family, had been the same when he’d been a child, begging his father to take him to the harbour whenever an adventurer returned so that he could listen to their stories of wonder and bravery; even now he still enjoyed hearing them, and as he travelled down the wooden planks, he slowed a little to catch some of the tales being told.

“Are you certain about this?” Prince Damir questioned, holding his hands behind his back as the pair strolled leisurely towards the end of the dock.

“Of course,” Victor chirped, smiling at a mother and her child as they waved to him from one of the ships. “The tensions between Russia and Japan have been sorted. The treaty was signed, pieces of land were given, and everything has been settled.” He could see that Damir wasn’t convinced, but he’d been planning this trip for months, and he was determined to see it through. He was an adventurer at heart, a curiosity that couldn’t be tamed. Nothing was going to stop him. “I know you’re worried, Damir, but trust me when I say that this opportunity will benefit us all.”

Nothing more was said about it, but if Damir’s occasional grunts and cold, hard glare was anything to go by, Victor’s words hadn’t changed anything.

“I’ll be back in a few months, and I’ll have many wondrous tales to tell. In the meantime, I will write to you when I can.”

“You’ll write to me every week,” Damir told him sternly, regarding those around him and quickly retaining his princely demeanour. “There may be a treaty and peacetimes upon us, but there are still tensions, both here and in Japan. Do not let your naivety trick you into thinking that you will arrive to glorious fanfare and a warm welcome simply because you are a guest of the emperor. I don’t want to cast a shadow on your journey, far from it, but you can’t ignore danger simply because it doesn’t fit in with your sunny disposition.”

Victor opened his mouth to speak, to refute everything that Damir had assumed about him, but he had a point; there were still tensions between their nations and news had arrived only a few days ago that there had been protests in Japan about his visit, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He wanted to see and experience the land his father told him was full of enemies, listen to their side of events and learn more about them. Understanding was the only way to keep the peace. “I’ll write every week,” he promised, “and should there be significant trouble and an endangerment to my life, then I promise I will return.”

Damir wrapped his cousin in a tight embrace, and when he drew back, he began to realise that Victor wasn’t a child anymore, running around the palace in outfits far too big for him and hiding flower crowns for the staff to find and delight in. He’d always been protective of him, many seeking to exploit his sensitive nature whenever he’d let his guard down, and Damir was tentative about letting Victor go in fear that someone else would seek to take advantage of him. But this was something that Victor believed in, that he’d spoken about every day for months, and even if he was apprehensive, he’d support him wholeheartedly. “That is good to know,” he said a little softer, walking behind Victor as they reached the magnificent boat at the end of the docks.

The captain greeted them with a wide grin and a low bow, the rest of the crew halting in their duties to follow in his footsteps.

Victor gestured for them to continue with their work, not wishing to be a hindrance, and shook hands with the captain of the awe-inspiring vessel. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain Lavrenti. I must say, the retellings from the townsfolk could never have done your ship justice. It’s beautiful.”

“Let’s just hope it’s strength and security matches that of its beauty,” Damir interjected, his hands tucked neatly behind his back as he regarded the surrounding area and the crewmen busy at work in preparing the ship for departure.

“I can assure you, Your Highness, the Princess Olga is as strong as she is swift,” Captain Lavrenti assured him, an air of boasting in his voice. “I will see Prince Victor safely to Japan.”

Damir bowed his head and turned to his cousin, holding onto his arms. “Stay safe, Victor, and remember what you promised.”

Victor watched as he made his way back down the gangplank and waved, and once the order had been given, the Princess Olga pushed away from the Russian docks and headed out into the open sea.

 

 * * *

 

_Present Day_

Yuri had never seen such snow before; he’d seen the odd sprinkling in the winter months, but nothing like the snow storm that had struck Hasetsu overnight. The surface of it almost came up to his knees, and the boots he had thought would be adequate for shoveling the icy powder had proven themselves to be useless after just half an hour. Luckily the shovel had held up during the grueling task, and Yuri had cleared the front courtyard within the hour.

He’d barely taken two steps back into the onsen when he heard his mother’s gentle tone and flurried footsteps as she tottered down the stairs.

“I see that you were able to clear the courtyard,” she commented with a relieved smile. “You’re an angel, my darling. Your father and I wouldn’t have been able to manage it, and Mari’s incredibly busy. I didn’t want to add more to her workload.”

“It’s okay,” Yuri assured her. “I was glad to help.”

Hiroko beamed proudly at her youngest child and patted his cheeks as she silently reminisced about his childhood, the little boy who loved the snow and dancing above all things but his family. “Speaking of help, we’ve had a last-minute booking. Would you make sure the top floor guest room is all set before you go to the rink?”

Yuri nodded and stepped swiftly up the stairs to the topmost floor of the onsen, entering the first room he came across and getting to work in ensuring that it was immaculate. Ever since he was little he’d been taught the order in which to clean the rooms to make sure he didn’t forget anything. It had interested him to see how everything worked in the onsen, and as he’d grown older, so had his respect for his parents. They’d run the place for decades with very little help, raising two children during that time and keeping their business from sinking like the other businesses in the area.

He gave the room one last lookover once he was done, and satisfied with the cleanliness and ambiance, he jogged back down the stairs, grabbed his sports bag, and went back outside again to brave the cold and snow flurries in order to train.

 

 * * *

 

_1876_

The voyage from Russia had been invigorating for Victor, Captain Lavrenti had even taught him a little about sailing and how the crew all worked to keep it going, but nothing, not the moon or the stars, could have been more beautiful and more exciting than the sight of Hasetsu rising from the depths of the horizon. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

Back on dry land, he was greeted by men dressed in what appeared to be adorned armor, and behind them a seat held aloft by two large wheels, a canopy pulled taut overhead to keep it sheltered.

“Prince Victor,” the most decorated man of the group declared, bowing his head in greeting. “We have been sent by Emperor Meiji to escort you to the castle. This way, if you please.” He gestured to the strange contraption and Victor followed after him, allowing him to aid him into the seat as two other men picked up the long wooden poles and began to pull it like a wagon. It was one of the strangest sensations he’d ever felt, but somehow it connected him with the world around him, and gave him an initial taste of the life and culture of Japan.

 

Arriving at the emperor’s palace, he was greeted by the senior members of the household and led through the intriguing structure. His eyes trailed the engravings on the walls and the stark contrast of block colour that formed pictures spanning the length of each room. The one that caught his eye the most was the image of bamboo plants with a waterfall in the background, the positioning of the greens, and blues, and yellows entrancing him.

He was led through more rooms, similar in space and each with new images to marvel at, until eventually he arrived in the council chamber. It was a vast hall, no less spacious than the rest of the palace, but the walls in there were dappled in subtle shades of dark green and gold, the motif of a peacock in flight emblazoned across the jade marble.

He spotted the emperor immediately and halted halfway into the room, leaning down in an extended bow and waiting to be spoken to before he opened his mouth. Behind the delicately adorned man stood others, all in either stacked armor or silken robes.

The emperor turned to the closest attendee and nodded, impatiently waving him forwards and speaking to his back.

The dark-haired man stood up to his full height as he regarded the Russian prince. “Emperor Meiji would like to welcome you to Japan, Prince Victor, and assures you that while you are here, you are his honoured guest. You have freedom of the palace and permission to explore as much as you wish, but the emperor requests that for your own safety, should you visit the surrounding towns, you take a guard with you.” The emperor halted in his flurry of words. “I am Yuri Katsuki, an advisor of Emperor Meiji, and he has assigned me to you to be your guide and translator for the duration of your stay.”

Victor knew he had to respond, but he was struck dumb by the man’s beauty and the gentle lull of his voice. The room was silent, only the faint rustling of armor to be heard as the emperor’s guards shuffled awkwardly. It was only when Yuri tilted his head in concern that he realised he had yet to answer. “I apologise, Yuri, I find I am still a little awestruck from my journey here. I thank Emperor Meiji for his hospitality, and hope that I prove to be a worthy guest. I feel this visit will be monumental for both the people of Japan and the people of Russia as we enter this new age of peace and prosperity.” Yuri peered over his shoulder to whisper the translation, and Victor took the brief opportunity to gaze around at his surroundings, taking in more of the Japanese art and architecture, but he found his focus being tempted back to his assigned guide, his eyes so big and brown that he wanted to spend the rest of his life exploring them. _Get a hold of yourself,_ he told himself. _This isn’t Russia where you can coyly flirt your way around the court to gain favour. This is not your land, and you must behave, for your family’s sake and that of Russia’s future with Japan._

“The emperor is glad to have you here, Your Grace,” Yuri spoke as he stepped towards the flustered prince. “We have all been awaiting your arrival.” Behind him, Emperor Meiji rose from his seat, nodded towards Victor, and departed the council chamber followed by his court and guards.

“I hope I’m not a disappointment.”

“On the contrary,” Yuri said with a blossoming smile. “You are a welcomed change.”


	2. New Aquaintances

 

**Chapter 2: New Acquaintances**

**-**

_Present Day_

The snow had risen yet again overnight, and with more on the way it was difficult to keep it under control. Yuri had worked from sunrise and into the early afternoon shovelling the latest onslaught, thankfully with Mari’s help this time. It had been a long time since they’d had this much snow, Yuri had only been small when the last blizzard had hit, but he’d spent the days building snowmen with his sister and having snowball fights with some of the visiting children, and the nights sat on the windowsill watching the fresh wave float down with a blanket around his shoulders.

He heaved a pile of snow from underneath the front windows and dumped it onto the pile by the tree line. 

“Tired?” Mari said from behind him, leaning on her shovel and raising an eyebrow. 

“A little,” Yuri wheezed. His muscles felt like they’d been torn to shreds, and the cold was only exacerbating it, but he was determined to get the job done. 

“Why don’t you go inside?” Mari suggested. “I can finish up here. There really isn’t a lot left to do, and I don’t want you to be too tired to train today.”

Yuri stood to his full height and pushed his glasses back up his nose as he turned to his older sibling, swallowing down the nervous lump that rose in his throat. For a while now, he’d been considering letting his dreams of winning a gold medal go, of giving in to his anxieties and never setting foot on the ice again, but that was a conversation that he wasn’t prepared to have just yet. “Are you sure?”

Mari nodded. “It’ll take me twenty minutes max. Besides, we can’t have our skating star injuring himself.”

Yuri let out a wobbly chuckle and shifted a dusting of snow with the toe of his boot. “Thank you, Mari.” He left her to finish up cleaning the courtyard and propped the shovel by the door, entering the inviting warmth of the onsen and relieving his aching lungs of the freezing cold air. 

It didn’t take him long to shrug out of his over-sized jacket, droplets of melted snow dripping from the fur-lined hood. 

“We’ll have to be careful once the snow clears,” his father said, entering the lobby with a warm drink and pushing it into Yuri’s gloved hands. “Any ice that forms overnight will be a problem for our guests.”

“I’ll salt the courtyard and the road in the morning,” Yuri replied, sipping at the hot tea. If it was one thing all guests knew his father for, it was the fragrant and delicious teas he made. In a few gulps, the refreshment was gone.

With a call from Hiroko in the onsen, his father gave him a quick pat on the back and scurried to the pools. It was relaxing to be home after his busy life in America, but now that his studies were over, he was finding himself questioning where his life would take him next. His skating career was on the rocks, the previous year’s failings having knocked the little confidence he had left, and he wasn’t sure of what to do next. 

The doors flung open, and before Yuri could react he was tackled to the ground, something wet skimming across his cheek and fur tickling his nose. As he regained himself and opened his eyes, he was faced with an excited hairy face,  a dog sniffing at his nose before he resumed licking hi m . 

“Makkachin! Oh, Makka, what trouble are you causing now?” 

The adorable animal was gently ushered away by his owner and a hand was extended to him. Yuri accepted it and allowed the stranger to help him back onto his feet, brushing down his shirt and finally looking up at the man. He was stricken in an instant, the sharp features, the icy blue eyes and the casually-styled silver hair all too familiar to him. 

“Victor Nikiforov?” he squeaked, unable to believe what he was seeing. What in the name of the stars was Victor Nikiforov doing at his family’s onsen? 

“That would be me,” the Russian chuckled charmingly, patting Makkachin’s head to keep him from leaping at someone else. “I believe I’m expected.”

Yuri stumbled over his words and closed his eyes to retain the little dignity he had left after his abrupt tumble. “Y-yes,” he managed to force out. “I can show you to your room.”

“That would be lovely, but I’d like to take a dip in the onsen first if that is okay.”

“Of course.” Yuri could feel Makkachin’s wet nose sniffing at his hand again, and unable to resist such a sweet canine, he reached out to stroke him behind his ears. “Would you like a private room?”

Victor smiled and Yuri swore that he could have melted on the spot, but somehow, he managed to find his feet and lead the way towards the springs. 

 

_1876_

“There is such beauty here in Japan,” Victor breathed, marvelling at the sight of the vast garden around him. There was so much green that he was partly convinced the colour had been founded there, the natural shades only giving way to the red bridges that crossed rock pools and trickling streams. “It seems such a shame that our nations were at war when we have so much to share with each other, so much of the world to explore together.”

“That is all over now, Your Grace,” Yuri said optimistically, walking a few paces behind the prince. “Now our nations have the opportunity to grow together, to exchange our stories and lay the foundations of a strong partnership.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” the prince replied, halting on one of the arched bridges and leaning on the red wood banister to peer into the water below. The ripples of the stream spread into expanding circles as the spotted fish sucked at the surface for remnants of food. Every speck, every inch of his surroundings piqued his fascination, and he wished that he could stay there for the rest of his life, exploring and discovering the secrets the enchanting country held. To think that he’d resigned himself to his little corner of the world when such splendour lay just across the ocean seemed foolish now. “Have you ever travelled?” he asked, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the serene expression on Yuri’s delicate features. 

“Only around Japan,” he replied, craning his neck to inspect the shallow waters below. 

“Would you like to travel?”

“I would,” Yuri sighed, “but the emperor needs me here, and I won’t leave without his express permission.” He noticed the drop of Victor’s eyes and the almost sorrowful look that spread across his demeanour. “But who knows what the future may hold. Perhaps I will get to travel.”

Victor perked up at that, his shoulders rising from their slump and a glint shining in his icy eyes. “You should visit Russia,” he suggested excitedly. “I’m sure if I asked Emperor Meiji, one royal to another, we could make some sort of arrangement. You could act as a representative.”

The way Victor made it sound, he’d already created a plan, and judging by the gentle bounce of his legs he was eager to see it enacted as quickly as possible. Some may have critisised how undignified he looked almost jumping on the spot like a toddler getting sweets, but to Yuri, it was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. Watching him get so excited at the prospect of him visiting his homeland gave him a warm feeling that spread through his body and tinged his cheeks pink. 

“You would love the winters,” Victor continued, tapping his lip as he ruminated on the idea. “It’s incredibly cold, but it is beautiful. Oh, and you must see our architecture. There are so many places I could take you.”

“I’d like that,” Yuri said wistfully, snapping the prince out of his ramblings and tilting his head as he pondered on the potential visit. From the other side of the gardens, he noticed one of the emperor’s messengers scurrying from the doorway, and saving him a wasted journey, Yuri simply held his hand up in acknowledgement and nodded to him. “I’m afraid I must go, Your Grace. I have a meeting to attend to, but I would be more than happy to meet with you before dinner.”

Victor bowed his head, not wishing to infringe on the advisor’s duties. “That would be wonderful,” he assured him, his eyes following after the flowing silken robe and midnight dark hair as Yuri  departed the gardens ,  leaving the space feeling a little empty.

 

_Present Day_

“So, you were born on November twenty-ninth, you attended school in Detroit, and you love playing video games in your spare time. What else do you like?”

Yuri gazed down at his bare feet, his toes leaving little dents in the sand as the pair walked leisurely across the beach. It was the only place that the snow had found trouble in taking over, the natural salts in the water melting it enough to leave some of the sand free. “I like pork cutlet bowls,” he replied with a shrug, sticking his hands into his  jacket  pockets. 

“Pork cutlet bowls?” Victor narrowed his eyebrows, picking up the stick Makkachin had placed before him and throwing it a little way across the sand. The sprightly dog bound after it, his tail wagging as he leapt forwards with as much speed as he could muster. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of those.”

“You have to try one,” Yuri said, almost drooling at the thought of a steaming hot bowl of the delicious food. “We can have a bowl when we get back to the onsen if you like.”

Victor nodded and playfully wrestled with Makkachin for the stick, chuckling at the tiny yaps he gave when his owner won. “Ready?” he said excitedly, pretending to throw it and confusing the canine for a moment before he sent it spiralling through the air again. “I’d love to try a pork cutlet bowl, and anything else you think I’d like. I came here to clear my head, to get some peace and quiet away from the press and the constant flash of cameras, and I’ve always found good food to be relaxing.”

Yuri had assumed that Victor loved the cameras and the attention, and while that may be true to an extent, he began to realise that it must have been difficult for him. He had enough pressure to excel and succeed from his coach, not to mention his hordes of fans following his every move and giving him little opportunity to enjoy a private moment; Hasetsu and its peaceful tranquillity must have been a relief for him, a paradise that gave him the chance to relax without someone snapping a photo or shoving a microphone in his face. “It must be annoying,” Yuri commented.

“Not annoying as such,” Victor replied, searching for the right words. “I am grateful for all of the support I get, it helps me in my training and during competitions, but sometimes it can be overwhelming, even after all these years. You never truly get used to it.” Makkachin ran back to him and dropped the stick again, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted, and Victor crouched down to pour some of his bottled water into a small dish for him. As the dog drank and lapped up the refreshment, he sat himself down and looked out to the setting sun as it dipped towards the horizon. 

Yuri joined him and brought his knees up to his chest. “How long are you planning on staying here?” he asked, dreading the day when Victor returned home and his time with him was nothing more than a fond memory. 

“I’m not sure,” the Russian answered. “There is plenty of time before the next season and there is an ice rink here I can train at, so there is no rush for me to leave.” He glanced down as Makkachin nuzzled at his hand, the gentle canine settling down beside him and enjoying the last of the day’s sun.

He shifted his gaze from the slumbering dog to the man he’d become entranced with during the first week of his retreat, his eyes ghosting over the thoughtful look radiating over Yuri’s face and the reflection of the gathering tide in his eyes. “Perhaps I could help you with your skating,” he suggested, almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden shocked movement from the local. “We could work on it together.”


	3. Stolen Glances

**Chapter 3: Stolen Glances**

-

_1876_

Victor swallowed the mouthful of fragrant soup, the scent magnifying the delicious taste as it slipped down his throat and warmed him to his core. It was refreshing to have the freedom of sipping straight from the bowl, the hindrance of having to take dainty spoonfuls nothing but an amusing thought. He wondered what Damir would say to see him eating in such a manner. 

“You look as though you are enjoying that soup, Your Grace,” the guard seated opposite him commented, peering over his drink to watch the prince. “Anyone would think you’d been starved for months.”

Victor gulped down the last drops of the refreshing liquid and chuckled, wiping his mouth with his napkin and letting out a contented sigh. “I could eat a hundred of those and still take one more if it was offered.” He leaned back and breathed in deeply. “I don’t know how anybody gets anything done with such delicious food around.”

Kaneko drained his glass and placed it down on the low table. “I’m glad to see you enjoy the delicacies here. Many foreign visitors are apprehensive and try only a little of what we have to offer, but you have an adventurous spirit that is only encouraged by your curious nature.”

“Well, it’s their loss,” Victor replied, laughing lightly. Kaneko was a humorous man, and Victor had been drawn to it in the weeks he’d spent amongst the Hasetsu folk. He could be brash at times and was often reprimanded by his superiors for laughing a little too loud, but the Russian prince felt as though he’d found a friend in the young guard. “Just leaves more for us.” He ladled another two bowls of the soup and handed one to Kaneko.

“Your Grace, I appreciate the offer, but I really shouldn’t,” Kaneko said regrettably. “I shouldn’t even be sat down in your presence. If my superiors saw me-”

“Then I would explain that I had invited you to sit with me, and had insisted on it when you’d politely declined,” Victor interjected, hoping that his regal position wouldn’t impact on what he hoped would be a budding friendship. 

The smile returned to Kaneko’s features, and reaching out  for the proffered bowl, he drank deep and relaxed again. “Thank you,” he said appreciatively, quickly consuming the thin soup and getting to his feet. “I’m afraid I must return to work, but I am grateful for your company, Your Grace, and your hospitality.”

Victor bowed his head and settled back against the cushions behind him as the guard took his leave, unwinding in the blissful quiet and finishing the last of his meal. 

 

As evening dawned, Victor took to wandering the palace, reading through the latest letter from Damir. Not much had changed in Russia, the winter was creeping in and preparations were being made for the forceful weather, but everything had changed for him; he had found a place in which he could find himself, and a culture in which he could learn more about the world around him and discovered a passion for life he never knew he had. 

From the end of the hall he could hear fervent words being exchanged, and making sure not to make a sound, he edged towards it and peered into the council hall. Within, a group of townsfolk were stood before Emperor Meiji’s throne, the emperor himself considering them carefully and replying in an authoritative voice. He watched in admiration of the man; he couldn’t understand what he was saying, but the way in which he spoke and his demeanour was something that Victor aspired to. One day, he wanted to be able to conduct himself in such a manner that everybody in earshot was hanging onto his every word, enamoured by their love for him but also fearfully respectful of his authority. 

Behind the emperor stood his court, almost in the same fashion as when he first arrived. The guards remained motionless, lining the back wall and watching the townsfolk stoically, and the advisors standing on each side of the throne, their hands clasped and resting on their stomachs. 

He spotted Yuri in an instant, the soft red of his silk robe glimmering against the firelight. The advisor turned his head and caught Victor’s gaze, his lips forming a tender smile and his fingers rising subtly to acknowledge him. The glance was only brief, a mere second of contact before their gazes were broken again, but it jostled the butterflies in Victor’s stomach, and stepping away from the council chamber, he beamed and headed out to the gardens to pen a response to Damir’s letter, eager to tell his cousin about Yuri and his newfound love. 

 

* * *

 

_Present Day_

The steps up to the ice rink were littered with puddles, and Yuri managed to catch each and every one on his way up. By the time he reached the top, the bottom of his jeans were sodden. He let out a small whine and carefully entered the building, getting to the changing rooms without dripping water everywhere and quickly changing into some dry clothes. From the rink he could hear music, and in curiosity, he picked up his skates and wandered to the railing, watching as Victor lost himself in the dramatic tempo. It was an awe-inspiring performance, and Yuri couldn’t have looked away even if he’d have wanted to. Each movement, each perfectly placed stretch the Russian made was as though gold sang in his veins, lighting up the ice and enthralling those fortunate enough to witness it.

Yuri felt his mouth slacken in astonishment. He’d seen Victor’s performances before on television and more often than not on the internet, but it was nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh. It made him want to be a better skater, to push the negative thoughts away and refuse to give in to his anxieties. He wanted to be as good as Victor, if not better one day.

The music came to a crashing crescendo which saw the world’s skating champion spin in a dizzying whirl before throwing himself down onto the ice, the loose tendrils of platinum hair falling in front of his eyes.

Yuri’s heart hammered, his breaths escaping his lips in ragged shots of air. He wanted to clap and applaud, anything to show his admiration of the man, but he couldn’t move, his mind still reeling and his body refusing to respond.

When Victor finally got to his feet, his chest quickly rising and falling as he composed himself, he noticed the star-struck figure staring wide-eyed by the rails. “I didn’t realise I had company,” he said with his signature grin, pushing his skates into motion and coming to a halt before Yuri. He awaited a response, and upon getting nothing but silence, he raised a slim eyebrow. “Are you going to stand there all day or would you like to join me?”

“Huh?” Yuri snapped out of his trance and remembered where he was, his skates still in his grasp. “Oh, yeah, sure… I mean...” He closed his eyes and subtly shook his head, cursing himself in his mind and hastily putting on his skates. His legs trembled and his hands quivered, and all at once his anxieties came crashing back down on him, the euphoric sense of wonderment he’d felt while watching Victor slowly ebbing away.

Victor considered the gentle man for a moment, watching as his fingers, shaking yet nimble, flick each shoelace over the other and tie them with ease. There was something troubling Yuri, he could sense it in his demeanour, and wanting nothing more than to help him in his time of need, the Russian skater stepped off the ice and knelt down before him, softly placing his hands over his. The flurried motions were stopped in an instant, and Victor caught Yuri’s gaze. “Is everything all right? You seem troubled.”

“I’m...I’m fine,” Yuri breathed, adding an unconvincing smile and noticing that it hadn’t gone amiss. Reluctantly removing his hands from beneath Victor’s, he sat back against the bench and hung his head. “Last season wasn’t great for me,” he started, trying again and again to find the right words. “I am slowly getting worse with each competition, and it’s humiliating. I’m embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I have let my family and friends down time and time again, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.”

Victor listened, saddened by his experiences in what he’d always considered an exciting and thrilling sport. But as electrifying as it was, it was also unforgiving, and it seemed that Yuri was going through some rough patches.

“I’m considering retiring before next season. Let someone younger, better take my place instead and do what I couldn’t.” The raven haired man raised his eyes and noticed the harrowed expression lingering on Victor’s usually bright features, startling him for a moment before he was suddenly wrapped in a warm embrace. “Uh… Victor?”

Victor held onto him tightly and hoped that it was of some comfort. He could see so much potential in Yuri, a little spark waiting to burst into an incredible inferno, and the last thing he wanted was for him to lose hope and give up altogether before the flames could roar in all their glory. “I wasn’t joking on the beach when I said I’d help you,” the Russian soothed. “If you want my help, you can have it, as much as I can give.”

For the second time in the space of a mere few minutes, Yuri was stricken silent again, but he managed a small nod against Victor’s shoulder, and hoping he could prove himself worthy of such an offer, he finally allowed himself to think of the next season and what it could mean for his career.


	4. The Pull of the Past

**Chapter 4: The Pull of the Past**

**-**

_1876_

Yuri let out a melodious chuckle and covered his mouth to prevent it from growing into an undignified rumble, his chest rhythmically pulsating with each tender giggle. “He sounds very tenacious,” he said, breathing deep to quell the laughter.

“He is,” Victor confirmed, skilfully raising the chopsticks to his mouth without spilling a single drop of food. “He is also called Yuri, but you’re both incredibly different.” He chewed on the straggle of meat and swallowed, the aroma adding to the pungent flavour and spices. “I have many cousins like him, but he’s the youngest, and the troublemaker. I think that sometimes his antics are a way for him to assert the fact he’s not a little child any more. He is often treated like a baby.”

Yuri was fascinated by Victor’s tales of his family, of faraway Russia and their royalty, and the traditions and daily lives they led. It was a culture that differed so much to his own that he wondered whether it was possible for an outsider such as himself to ever learn everything about it. “You mentioned another cousin. Prince Damir? Is that correct?”

Victor nodded and swallowed another morsel of meat. “Damir is the next in line for the throne,” he explained. “He has always been like a brother to us, treating us no different to his other siblings. We are of a similar age, so we bonded when we were children and have kept that bond strong over the years.” His gaze trailed across the elaborately decorated table and up to the beaming face of the Japanese advisor sat opposite him. “You can meet him if you visit. I have told him about you and your kindness towards me in my letters, and I’m sure he is curious to meet you.” _Who wouldn’t be desperate to meet such purity?_ Victor thought to himself. _Who would not want to be close to such warmth and beauty?_ He caught himself staring again and instantly turned his attention to his meal, clamping a morsel between each chopstick and lifting it from the soup it was nestled in. Keeping his other hand beneath it to catch any loose droplets, he reached across the low table and held it out to Yuri. The advisor seemed a little startled at first, and Victor worried that he had offended him in some way or done something inappropriate, but within a few seconds the delicious chunk of meat was gone, and Yuri’s smile grew as he chewed.

Victor could feel his temperature rising and his stomach fluttering, and trying to draw attention away from his colouring cheeks, he turned the conversation to the palace. He spoke of the decorations and the architecture, and delighted in listening to Yuri tell him about its extensive history, his voice growing in enthusiasm the more he spoke and his features settling into a wistful look. He could almost see each historic moment play out in his eyes as he told the tales, the sieges, the fights, the parties and celebrations all dancing across the brown glaze.

Acting on instinct and giving into the pull of attraction, he reached out and tenderly twisted a raven curl between his fingers, tucking it back behind Yuri’s ear, oblivious to the silence that ran between them as the advisor’s stories came to a sudden stop at his touch. “You are a beauty,” the prince breathed, the words floating from the warmest recesses of his heart. “You are a lily, a radiance in a world that does not deserve you.” His smile softened and he withdrew his hand, startling from his lovestruck musings when he felt a gentle skim against his palm, Yuri keeping his fingers close and refusing to let him say such sweet words and just retract his touch so carelessly.

His heart was beating quicker than he could comprehend, and a hundred different emotions were surging through him, but all he felt in that moment was Victor; the soft skin of his palms, the curl of his fingers, the calming shift of his nails, and the grasp that left him desperate to reach out to him. But he couldn’t. Victor was royalty, above his station, and he’d already broken enough protocols.

Letting his hand go and sitting back on his feet, the advisor dropped his gaze. He tried to speak, but all that left his mouth was an unintelligible string of squeaks. A knock at the door frame relieved him of the awkwardness, and he scampered to his feet after a quick farewell, following after the messenger and leaving Victor to stew in the confusion of their heightening relationship.

 

* * *

 

_Present day_

Yuri bit his lip in concentration, holding his arms out to keep his balance before leaping into an impressive jump, twisting gracefully before landing back on the ice with a gentle slide. He hadn’t felt this confident in a while, and he was reluctant to let it go.

“Keep your head up,” Victor instructed from the sidelines, tilting his head as he scrutinised the performance. “Show the audience that you are confident in your movements, that you are the master of the ice and you command it.”

Yuri tried his best, pushing forwards in his determination, and even though his anxieties were still present in his mind, so was the thrilling feeling of travelling at speed and the comforting sound of his skates grinding against the ice.

His routine ended, his arms raised to his chin, and with a steady applause, Victor stepped back onto the rink. “You’re doing well, Yuri,” he commended, coming to a stop just centimetres from the younger skater. “When I watch you, it feels like you’re seducing something...” The Russian inched forwards, stroking beneath Yuri’s chin and offering him an irresistible glance. “Or someone,” he whispered, feeling Yuri’s stuttered breaths whispering across his cheeks. Upon receiving a wide-eyed expression and a blush that could have warmed up a whole winter, he let out a tender laugh and skated back to the railing, gesturing for Yuri to follow him. “I’m only kidding,” he assured him, deftly removing his skates and placing them by the bench.

Yuri followed in suit, slipping the guards over his blades and sitting his skates down beside Victor’s. “Really?” he challenged playfully as he nudged his shoulder. Moments later he found himself lying on his back, the Russian’s fingers gliding teasingly over his belly in a successful attempt to tickle him. “Stop it, stop it!” Yuri laughed, swatting the flickering fingers away. “Victor, that tickles!”

“That’s the point,” Victor told him, his heart fluttering at the enchanting smile he got with each mischievous tickle. He let out a funny noise as he continued, Yuri’s grin growing and Victor’s heart leaping.

When he finally stopped, Yuri breathed deep for a few minutes to catch his breath, and for the first time since meeting Victor, felt that there was something more to their relationship, something that couldn’t be described as simply as love or mutual respect and support. It was something much more forceful, something pulling him towards his energy and his spirit. “We should get back,” he said, sitting himself up. “I’m getting hungry.”

 

Back at the thriving family business, Hiroko was quick to prepare a meal for the exhausted men, relishing in the task of ensuring her guests were fully fed and content.

“This is katsudon,” Yuri said as his mother presented them with two bowls.

Victor split the chopsticks and prodded at the food before tentatively reaching in a pulling a piece of meat from the steaming broth. It smelt delicious, and tasted even better. Within moments he was wolfing down as much as he could, taking mouthful after mouthful and barely sparing a breath in-between. “Your mother’s cooking is wonderful,” he commented, allowing himself a brief break to commend the cook. “It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten!”

Yuri beamed in response to the positive feedback, glad to see that Victor was enjoying his time in Hasetsu. _However long I have with him, I’m going to make the most of it,_ he thought to himself. _I will savour every second I get with him, because when he returns to Russia, I may never be with him like this again._


	5. The Promise

**Chapter 5: The Promise**

**-**

_Present Day_

Yuri let out a cold breath, waving his hands at the reversing car and hunching his shoulders against the uncomfortable chill. “A little bit more, Dad!” he called to the driver. “No, not forward... back... back!” He gestured towards himself a little more fervently, and the vehicle shifted in its direction again. “That’s it... and... stop.” The brakes clonked and the car let out a wheeze of relief as it was finally allowed to stop.

“Thanks, Yuri,” the elderly man said as he clambered down from the front seat. “I never have been able to navigate this driveway properly. Your mother used to say I’m as coordinated as a blossom caught in a breeze.” Toshiya chuckled and clapped his son on the shoulder as he made his way into the onsen, letting out a satisfied hum at the warmth that greeted him. “You seem quiet, Yuri. Is everything all right?”

Yuri’s gaze shot up. “Yeah, Dad, everything’s fine.” He offered him a wavering smile, but before he had time to question him further, Mari made her presence known, the smoke from her cigarette floating through the air before her gentle cough reached their ears.

“Hey,” the older sibling said. “Mum could do with some help in the laundry room, Dad. I don’t mind helping Yuri bring the groceries in.”

Toshiya grinned and nodded, humming a tune to himself as he headed to the laundry room.

“I will never get tired of his optimism,” Mari said with a smile, dragging in another lungful of smoke and breathing it out again in the opposite direction. “Well, we can’t stand around here all day. Let’s get the groceries and...” She raised an eyebrow at her brother, not that he would have noticed; his was far too preoccupied watching the tall, silver-haired figure conversing with one of the other guests. “Earth to Yuri?” She snapped her fingers by his ears a couple of times and startled him out of his daze.

“Huh? I’m sorry, Mari. You were saying something about optimistic groceries.” Yuri narrowed his eyebrows and tried to think of the few words he’d taken in while he had been glancing at Victor.

“You are smitten, little brother,” she said, her smile turning into a beam and a knowing giggle lingering on her lips.

“Wha- No, I just...”

Mari waited, letting Yuri stumble over his words for a little longer before she interrupted him. “Yuri, I have known you from the moment you were born. I know you, and I know when you’re interested in someone.”

Yuri opened his mouth to explain himself, to insist that she was mistaken, but he knew that it would be a waste of breath. “I like him,” he told her in confidence, the heat in his cheeks rising. “When I first met him, I was as starstruck as any of his fans, but the more time I spend with him, the more I feel like I’ve met him before. He’s familiar in a way I can’t explain.”

“Maybe you knew each other in a past life,” Mari said, shrugging lightly and putting out her cigarette. “Now come on. We’d better get the groceries in before the cold turns them to ice. Victor will still be here when you get back.”

 

* * *

 

_1876_

Victor let out a contented breath and reclined a little further back into the cushions, his mind relaxing into a soothing state of calm. “I could get used to this,” he voiced, nuzzling at the soft silk and glancing up at the seated advisor beside him. Despite the tranquil ambiance set by the candlelit room and the gently smoking incense, Yuri appeared anything but calm. “You seem worried, Yuri,” the prince said, propping himself up on his elbow and tilting his head. “Is everything alright?”

The Japanese man looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs and biting at his lip as he anxiously tried to find the right words; Victor was right, he was troubled, but he didn’t want to burden him with it. “It’s nothing, Your Grace,” he replied, voice small.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” Victor sat up properly and narrowed his eyebrows.

“During a meeting with the emperor, we were told of more conflicts in the streets,” Yuri confided. “The violence is growing, and killings have begun in protest of Japan’s loss of land.”

Victor shifted forwards and tentatively reached out for him, laying his hand over his when Yuri showed no signs of discomfort. To his surprise, the younger man leaned into his welcoming arms, and Victor was quick to hold him in a protective embrace. For those few blessed moments, he wasn’t a prince; his title, his heritage, his family name didn’t matter. He was a man, and that was all. “The situation may seem dire now,” he said gently, running his fingers through his hair and cuddling him close, “but a solution will be found, I promise.”

“I know,” Yuri replied, his heart hammering at the close proximity to Victor. He could feel the heat from his body, his heartbeat racing almost as much as his. “It’s just that right now, I don’t know how we’re going to deal with it. The emperor doesn’t want to resort to violence, he has always abhorred such behaviour, but I fear we may have to if we’re to keep everything under control. Who knows how far people will take this?”

“But it may not come to such things,” Victor assured him, wishing he had enough power to mediate a peaceful resolution between his family and the people of Japan. People had often assumed that because of his title he was free to act as he wished, that he had the power and the authority to make or break a situation, but the truth was that he had very little say in the problems his nation faced. He was a royal cousin, not the ruler or the heir, and his prestigious title was purely decoration.

He held Yuri against his chest, linking his fingers through his and stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. “I promise that while I’m here, I will protect you. I will comfort you when you’re upset, I will support you in the darkest of times, and make it my life’s mission to see you smile every day. I promise, Yuri. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

_Present Day_

Yuri tried to concentrate, but his latest attempts had been about as successful as his previous tries; no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to push Mari’s words out of his mind, he couldn’t. He knew it was absurd to even contemplate it, and he was certain that his sister had been jesting when she’d suggested that he and Victor had known each other in a past life, but there was a warm familiar feeling that surged through his body whenever he was around the Russian guest, a sense of a previous bond lingering over him whenever they were together, and he couldn’t shake it.

Luckily, the hot water of the onsen was enough to soothe his mind for a little while. _It’s ridiculous_ , he told himself as he settled back against the rock and relaxed. _Stop thinking about it._

A padding sound emanated from the doorway, a lithe figure entering the private onsen and dipping a foot into the water. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Yuri’s eyes flew open as Victor seated himself down over the opposite side of the pool, leaving his towel draped over a rock behind him.

“You looked very peaceful.”

Yuri opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, and after a moment of feeling awkward he closed it again. Victor was a skating champion, a man of great accomplishments who wowed the world with his grace and dedication, and looking down at the ripples on the surface of the water, he resigned himself to the fact that Victor would never reciprocate his affections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello one and all!
> 
> I just want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your support throughout this story, especially the really sweet comments you've left. They really help me a lot. 
> 
> Shameless plug time: If you enjoy my work, I do currently have four self-published books available on Amazon (under Jessica E Boswell) available in paperback and eBook. There is a thriller/YA trilogy on there (Between Light and Shadows), and a fantasy novella collection (The Rise of the Elite). I am currently working on my next trilogy, but it's in the very early stages. Hopefully it will be out some time this year. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support, and as always, stay awesome
> 
> Jess


	6. The Blossom Trees of Japan

** Chapter 6: The Blossom Trees of Japan **

-

_ Present Day _

Yuri raised the large duvet and shook it into place, pulling down the thin sheets on either side to envelop it in the silk upper room bedding. His arms stretched almost to their limit, and by the time he’d made the bed he was out of breath. He didn’t know how his mother had done this for years without collapsing. Even after all the training he’d put his body through, he still felt exhausted running around after the guests, but his mother managed it day in, day out as though it was a fine art, and without a single complaint or even a tired sigh.

Luckily for him, that was his final room, but instead of reclining and enjoying some time playing games or reading, he grabbed his sports bag and jacket, and headed out into the bitter chill. 

“Yuri! Hey, wait up!”

Yuri froze in his tracks, the accented words striking him still. He had hoped to slip away unseen, and for the briefest of moments he thought that he’d gotten away with it. “Victor,” he said in greeting, beaming through the rising anxiety sending nauseating waves crashing around his stomach. “I didn’t realise you were up. I thought after the fun you had last night, you’d be eager to have a lie-in.” He tried not to think about the previous night’s shenanigans, particularly the jolly dancing his father had taken to after consuming a large amount of alcohol, and the guests’ insistent encouragements that had kept him in his merriment for many embarrassing hours. “I was just heading out.” 

“To the ice rink?”

Yuri nodded. “I have some time so I thought I’d get some practice in.” He shifted a slush-covered rock with his shoe and avoided eye contact with the Russian, the overwhelming feeling of foolishness reaching its peak. “You don’t have to join me,” he quickly added. “You’ve already done so much for me, you deserve some time to yourself, to relax, you know, and…” His words vanished as fast as they’d come to mind, and Yuri found himself struggling to come up with any other excuses to distance himself from the charming guest. 

“I don’t mind grabbing my coat and joining you,” Victor said, grinning brightly and turning back to the onsen again.

“No!”

Victor halted, peering back at Yuri, his expression dimming and slipping into one of confusion and hurt. 

“I mean, no, really, Victor,” Yuri breathed, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “You came here to relax and escape your busy-paced life, and I feel awful taking up so much of your time. Relax, please.” He held his hands out, hoping that his suspicious ramblings had gone unnoticed, and before anything else could be said, he turned on his heels and made a quick getaway. He wished he could explain himself, that he could tell Victor the truth about how he felt about him and that his avoidance was out of fear of rejection and concreting the fact that he would never reciprocate those feelings, but every time he tried, the words stuck in his throat and refused to go any further.  _ It’s not as though you need to cement the fact that Victor will never see you as anything more than an acquaintance, a friend at most,  _ his mind told him harshly. He could almost hear the sneer.  _ Accept that now, before you get hurt.  _

Victor watched Yuri go, confused from head to foot at the sudden change in the younger skater’s attitude and behaviour. He always been shy, but he’d never rejected him like this, and he began to fear that he’d offended him in some way. 

* * *

_ 1876 _

The docks of Japan differed greatly from the ones of Russia, but for Victor, the atmosphere was the same; merchants and traders organised their wares, children ran along the planks after one another in their games, and the entire length of harbour was full of life, a beautiful combination of cultures and curiosities. 

“Up ahead is one of the emperor’s ships,” Yuri said, pointing to the awe-inspiring marvel towards the end of the dock. “It spends most of its time in foreign ports, but the emperor adores it ever so much.”

Victor could see why Emperor Meiji favoured it; the wood had been sanded smooth and the sails looked just like the folding doors of the palace, but what caught his eye was the figurehead thrusting proudly from the front of the vessel. A twisted dragon slunk around the ornately painted white and blue prow and boasted the most delightful shades of emerald and scarlet. The teeth had been carven to sharp points, and its whiskers were painted gold, the sheen glimmering in the early afternoon sun. Along its body, tiny wooden pieces had been painted in varying white and pink tones in arched shapes. He could only imagine the effect as it sailed proudly through the ocean, a fearsome growl lingering on the creature’s lips and the painted blossom appearing to float by. 

Yuri watched Victor’s expression as his eyes widened and his mouth gaped in wonderment. “Not many visitors have seen this particular ship,” he continued, leading the prince up the ramp and letting his inquisitiveness take the lead once they were back on levelled ground. “Most of the time, when the emperor is hosting a guest, the ship is out of port, and so you are the first visitor to explore it like this.”

“It is an honour I will cherish for the rest of my life,” Victor assured him, getting a better look at the strange shape of the sails and reaching up to skim his fingertips over the surface. They were rougher than he imagined, but no less spectacular. 

Once he’d been given a full tour of the vessel, the pair came back out onto the deck, and Victor couldn’t resist getting closer to the figurehead. The reflection of the sun on the water danced along the length and drew his attention to the golden whiskers and detailed snout that pointed towards the horizon, towards his homeland. “Here,” he said in a tempting whisper, holding his hand out to Yuri and helping him up to the front of the ship. 

Yuri padded up to his side, holding on in fear of falling, and gazing out at the shimmering expanse of water before them. “I will never tire of such beautiful sights,” he sighed wistfully. 

“No,” Victor replied, just as quietly, his eyes flitting from the ocean around them to the alluring advisor beside him, “neither will I.”

* * *

_ Present Day _

When Yuri returned, he was ready to collapse, craving nothing more than a warm pair of pyjamas and the comfort of his bed, but approaching the onsen and spotting a familiar figure stood in the doorway, he realised that life had other plans. 

“You haven’t been waiting for me all day, have you?” he jested nervously as he neared Victor. 

“I went to bathe and had some more of your mother’s delicious food,” Victor replied, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and leaning his shoulder against the door frame. “Can we…can we talk?”

Yuri narrowed his eyebrows and his mind raced, but he managed a small nod in response. 

Victor lead the way to a secluded corner of the building, peering over Yuri’s shoulder and waiting for a trio of laughing guests to pass them before he spoke. “Is everything all right?”

Now Yuri really was confused; Victor couldn’t have been acting all elusive just to ask him something so trivial, could he? “I’m… fine,” he replied. 

“It’s just you’ve been really distant lately, and if it’s something that I’ve said or done to offend you or hurt you, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Victor,” Yuri said quietly, looking down in shame; he hadn’t meant to make Victor feel like this, he’d assumed that in avoiding the handsome guest his crush on him would fade, but it seemed it had had the opposite effect. “I have been a little distant, and I’m sorry for that.” He found the courage to lift his gaze and breathed out slowly. “It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I thought that…. I wanted to…” Yuri could feel the familiar sting of tears and wiped them away in frustration. With his plan to rid himself of his crush and save himself from rejection failing miserably, he realised that this may be the only chance he got to tell Victor how he truly felt. The thought shocked him for a moment. He’d spent so much time refusing to admit his feelings that he hadn’t allowed himself to think that there was a possibility, no matter how small, that Victor liked him to. But was it a risk worth taking? “I was trying to… I wanted to tell you that I…”

Victor listened intently to the younger man’s rambling, his heart pounding and his mind reeling until he couldn’t resist the urge to be closer to him. He pulled Yuri into an embrace to smother the worries and woes, and smiled as it was tentatively reciprocated. “It doesn’t matter now,” he whispered tenderly, drawing back to kiss a stray tear from Yuri’s cheek. He’d barely drawn back an inch when Yuri captured his lips in a crushing kiss, and Victor wasted no time in reacting, cupping Yuri’s delicate face in his hands and trying ever so desperately to get closer.  _ So, that is why he was avoiding me,  _ he thought, unable to stop the satisfied smirk from slipping across his lips. 

Letting go and breathless, Yuri took one look at the rosy tint taking over Victor’s features and buried his face in his chest, certain that his own blush was glowing. But despite the flurry of excitement circulating his mind and the ever-growing heat in his cheeks, one thought stood out amongst the rest: Victor had kissed him back. 


	7. Tender Loving Care

** Chapter 7: Tender Loving Care **

** - **

****

_ 1876 _

The return journey was nothing like the relaxed excursion down the dock. To either side of the travelling prince and his guide were a dozen palace guards, squaring them in as they walked. They had offered him mobile transport, but Victor, wanting to enjoy the day to its full extent, had kindly declined the offer and chosen to continue their leisurely stroll. Despite the tense atmosphere, the pair couldn’t resist stealing glances, withholding their smiles when they thought someone may look their way and intrude on their moment.

“The sun shines so delicately here,” Victor commented, edging a little closer to Yuri so he could brush his fingertips against his knuckles. “I don’t think I will ever forget the sight of such luminosity and life.” His eyes skimmed the blossoming trees and bustle of townsfolk around them, admiring the verve and culture. Everybody had a part to play, a role in which they were relied upon. The people of Hasetsu did so with such pride that Victor felt it radiating from them in the swift breezes that swept in from the coast. 

“Is the sunlight different in Russia, Your Grace?” Yuri asked to make conversation, all too conscious of the cold presence around him. The palace shields were like towers of fortitude, brave, bold and loyal to the last, and while he knew them as the men who guffawed loudly and beamed at him when they were off duty, to see them so rigid and unresponsive unnerved him. 

Victor chuckled under his breath and placed his hands behind his back to keep him from entwining his fingers with the advisor’s. “I think the atmosphere and the landscape changes how the light is perceived.” He felt Yuri’s eyes on him, curious and soft as ever, but just as he was about to return the compassionate glance with a loving one of his own, a glint caught his attention from one of the darkened alleyways, a hooded figure stepping close enough for him to see what he was holding. Within an instant he had grabbed Yuri and wrenched him aside from the man, shielding him with his body. “Get down!” he yelled, seconds before the initial bullet was released. Sensing the trembling racking through Yuri and desperate to get him elsewhere from the danger, he took his hand and led him towards the palace, eyes unblinking and scanning the area for any other potential threats. He could hear the roar of conflict and more gunshots, but in that moment his priority was Yuri. 

There were occasions when Victor’s mind played tricks on his eyes to frighten him further, but once they were finally within the safe confines of the emperor’s residence, he let out the breath he’d been holding and slumped against the nearest wall. Physicians and worried councillors were instantly around him, fussing about his well-being and questioning him on the disastrous turn of events. “Yuri…” he got out over the rising stream of panic welling up inside him. “Where is he? Is he okay?” He pushed past the healers and found Yuri on his knees, his head swaying and his fist clutching his shoulder. Red trails dripped through his fingers. 

The advisor sensed him close by and watched as he sunk to the ground in front of him. “It’s nothing serious,” he said in response to the panic spreading across his features. He removed his hand so that the prince could get a better look at the slice on his arm and gave him a reassuring smile to ease his worry.

Within moments the pair were whisked aside. Their minor wounds were treated together by the most senior physicians after Victor had become visibly shaken at the thought of leaving Yuri’s side. It wasn’t until after the healers had left the room and cleared away their bloodied equipment that Victor broke down, holding Yuri close and whispering sweet words of comfort against the dark tendrils of his ruffled hair. 

 

* * *

 

_ Present Day _

Yuri stood to his full stature and brushed the splatters of melted ice from his sleeves. It had been a positive run, he’d only wobbled coming out of one jump, and for the rest of the routine he had kept a consistent pace, each intricate move finished right down to his fingertips. But he knew he could do better.

“Superbly done,” Victor said with a grin, applauding the skater as he returned to the railing. “There was a minor stumble, but other than that you did well.”

“I can do better,” Yuri replied through gritted teeth, grabbing his towel and his water bottle, and drinking deep as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Since you have begun training under my tutelage, I have noticed a marked improvement in your jump abilities and in your overall confidence.”

Swallowing a large mouthful of water, Yuri offered the Russian an appreciative smile and handed back his towel and bottle. It was difficult for him to believe that he’d stuck around and didn't see him as a subject of pity; he truly wanted to help because he saw potential in him. “I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for me,” he said, leaning closer so he could wrap a hand around his tie and pull him in closer, the tip of his nose brushing against his cheek. “I can do this, Victor. I can win, but only if you don’t look away,” he whispered, relishing in the flushed reaction he got from the silver-haired champion. “Keep your eyes on me.” With a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, Yuri turned and skated back into the centre of the rink, leaving Victor a blushing mess on the sidelines. 

* * *

_ 1876 _

The palace was a hive of activity following the attack on the emperor’s guards. Dignitaries and nobles had sent representatives to check up on the situation, and their arrivals kept security busy going through the identification documents.

Victor hadn’t seen Yuri for hours and it was putting him on edge. He’d asked after him, but the information they had given him had been vague and every request to see him respectfully declined. Excuse after excuse.

“You’ll be free to go once the palace is declared secure and the visiting dignitaries have settled in, Your Grace,” his personal physician informed him. “It is all for our safety.”

“I understand,” Victor sighed, his legs swinging back and forth from the table.

“Have you been experiencing any dizziness at all? Any nausea or vomiting?”

“No.”

“Any more pain from your injuries?”

“No.” Victor shook his head. “In all honesty, I feel fine. I’m just concerned.”

“We all are, Your Grace,” the physician said, “but the emperor’s guards are the most skilled warriors in the world. They will keep us safe.”

A knock at the door caught their attention and a messenger entered, bowing low to both Victor and the physician before conversing in Japanese with the medical man.

“The palace is all clear,” the physician reported to the worrying royal. “You’re free to go, Prince Victor. If you’re seeking Advisor Katsuki, they have told me that all the emperor’s staff are in their personal chambers.”

Victor smiled and gave the customary bow to the man before darting from the room. He slowed down once he’d gotten to the more crowded areas of the palace, slipping past fretting diplomats and ambassadors, and jogging up the stairs unseen.

Upon reaching Yuri’s apartments, he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath before knocking on the door and tentatively sliding it open. “Yuri?” He peered around the doorway, spotting the advisor’s silhouette through the hanging fabric between the dividing columns.

“Victor?”

The prince wasted no time in greeting him, rushing through the door and drawing him into a tight embrace. “Yuri, my sweet Yuri,” he breathed against his hair, the panic and stress he’d pent up over the past few hours slowly floating away.

 


End file.
